


The Handshake (Forbidden Couple Book 1)

by Beano



Series: Forbidden Couple [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Fluff, Hogwarts First Year, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Slytherin Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2019-09-22 08:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17056289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beano/pseuds/Beano
Summary: What if Harry accepted Draco's handshake? What if he let the hat decide?This is Book 1 of a series describing how the story would've gone if Harry hadn't decided to take his fate into his own hands.SMH Bad Harry





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! This is my debut on Ao3. This used to be on Wattpad, but I've since edited and added onto it.
> 
> I was originally going to abandon it, but someone enjoyed it, so this is for them

Harry Potter, a tall, gaunt boy with green eyes, untidy jet black hair, and glasses, waited quietly for Professor McGonagall to return when a pale, blonde boy wandered up to him and his newfound companion Ron Weasley.

"So, it's true then?" The boy questioned, "Harry Potter is going to Hogwarts this year. It's you, then?"

Harry stared up at the boy, whom he had seen previously when he was in Madam Malkin's receiving his robes, "Yes, I am. Who are you?"

"I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," The boy answered, his eyes seeming to twinkle with hope at Harry's acknowledgement.

Ron smothered a snicker and Draco whirled to scowl at him, "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair and hand-me-down robes, you must be a Weasley," He scoffed.

"So what if I am? It's better than being a Malfoy. Your father's a Death Eater!" Ron retorted.

Draco's face grew red, and he bristled. He was about to insult Ron when Harry intervened.

"Guys, stop it!" Harry advised, "Fighting gets you nowhere in life. Do you wanna lose house points before you've even been sorted? Just- be nice to each other, please?"

"I might as well..." Draco grumbled.

"Fine," Ron crossed his arms as Draco extended his hand to Harry.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Potter,"

Harry grinned, then responded with, "Same to you, Malfoy. I'm sure we'll be great friends,"

When they dropped hands, Draco held his hand out to Ron, who took it hesitantly, "And to you, too, Weasley." 

"Malfoy," Ron grunted.

They dropped hands as Professor McGonagall walked in. Ron wiped his hand off on his robes, earning him a warning glare from Harry.

Professor McGonagall stared at Ron and Draco for a moment, then said, "Right. They're ready for you in the Great Hall now," She walked through the massive doors into the Great Hall.

"Woah," The first years oohed at the star-spangled ceiling.

"It's not the night sky, it's enchanted to look like it. I read about it in 'Hogwarts: A History'." Harry overheard a voice that he had previously heard on the train say.

The first years rested at the foot of the stairs and waited for Professor McGonagall to cry out their names.

"Abbott, Hannah,"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Bones, Susan,"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry started to blur the names together, the sound now becoming merely background noise. 

"Malfoy, Draco,"

"Wish me luck, Harry!" Draco exclaimed as he ran up the stairs.

Almost as soon as the hat brushed his sleeked platinum blonde hair, it called out, "SLYTHERIN!"

Draco glowed and waved at Harry as he ran towards the Slytherin table. Harry applauded, cheering for him, but his heart sunk. Ron would be in Gryffindor. He would have to pick. _No,_ Harry thought, _let the hat decide._ He waited unabatingly for his name to be called.

"Potter, Harry,"

Harry glanced at Ron, then trudged up the stairs as gasps scattered throughout the great hall. Professor McGonagall set the hat on his head. 

_Difficult, very difficult. A kind heart, plenty of bravery, and not a bad mind, too, and a thirst to prove yourself. Now where to put you..._

"Wherever you think best," Harry murmured.

_So you're open to all choices? Well, then, better be..._

"SLYTHERIN!" 

Appalled gasps and murmurs ran through the hall. No one had foreseen that The Boy Who Lived would be a Slytherin. Harry glanced at Ron as Professor McGonagall took the hat off of his head. Ron gaped at Harry with incredulity, then glared at him. Harry blundered down the stairs toward the Slytherin table, which was packed with confusion and feeble cheers. Draco waved him over and made room for him, his face full of delight.

"You made it, Harry! You did it! You..." Draco gazed at Harry's troubled face with concern, "What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry sat down and elaborated upon his troubles, "Do you think Ron would still want to be my friend, even if I'm a Slytherin?"

Draco's arm twitched as if to make a move to comfort the black-haired hero, "Of course he would, Harry. If he didn't, he wouldn't be a true friend, if you were a Gryffindor, I would still be your friend."

"You're my friend?" Harry asked as hope flickered within him.

Draco stuttered for a moment as if he was debating whether or not he should say something before he responded with, "Of course I am. Now, enjoy the feast, Harry."

Harry spent the rest of the feast trying to enjoy as much of it as possible, he clapped when Ron was sorted into Gryffindor, even when it earned him weird stares, he chuckled when Professor Flitwick dropped his fork, and he chatted with his fellow Slytherins.

Harry was as crafty as a fox, he was as sharp as an owl. He was Slytherin.

 

 

The first few days of classes were the most eventful that Harry had ever experienced. Given, he's only experienced those classes so far, but that's beside the point. Harry's clothes had been enchanted to match the colours of his house, and he had concluded that green looked much more fitting on him than red ever could. Draco had agreed with him on that, continuing on to say that the colour accentuated his emerald eyes.

His housemates didn't know what to do at first. Not one of them had gotten onto the Hogwarts Express suspecting that the Chosen One would be living in the green-lit dungeon alongside them. Soon, however, they got used to the mass of untidy black hair and mostly ignored him, unless his scar was showing. He looked just like everyone else, for the most part. He was, however, the only one with eyeglasses, which perplexed him quite a bit.

The first day of classes, Harry felt a multitude of eyes on him, though they were mostly on his scar. He was thankful for his first class, History of Magic, as most of the first years were staring at the teacher rather than him. Harry found himself staring at him, too, much to his dismay. He should know better, he was experiencing the same thing. Well, instead of being dead, he was stared at for... not being dead? 

Coming into the classroom, Harry was quite ecstatic to learn about the history of the wizarding world, perhaps even more excited when he discovered that the teacher was a ghost. _Maybe he's seen it all in person,_ he thought excitedly. 

His hopes slowly deflated as class drudged on, proving that wizarding history was just as dull as muggle history. He found himself creating a new history, one much more magical and exciting. The visuals started to flood into his mind, a battle of dragons and trolls-

_Thump._

A sharp pain hit the side of Harry's head, and he bolted upright. He glanced to his right, relaxing once he saw Draco.

"Wake up, doofus." He kidded.

Harry let out a small chortle before quickly snapping his mouth shut as he saw Professor Binns turning.

 

Harry was much more excited about his next class. Mixing stuff together to make something new and magical piqued his interest quite a bit. He had scoured his textbooks in his dorm after Draco had told him about it, discovering a plethora of new and exciting information.

As he walked down the green-lit hallway of the dungeons, he saw a flash of red. No- it was more than a flash, it was a wave. A group of first-year Gryffindors walked towards the potions classroom, and Harry bit his lip nervously.

Ron.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry starts off on the right foot with Professor Snape... kind of. For once, Harry enjoys school and even has a decent lunch! And then it hurt.

Harry's eyes quickly darted away as Ron turned to meet his gaze. He spotted Draco several paces in front of him and jogged to catch up. He slowed as he reached him, stepping inside the dank dungeon classroom. He shuffled quietly to the seat next to Draco, not wanting to attract any attention to himself.

Too late.

Whispers and murmurs bounced off the walls of the classroom, bringing more and more attention to Harry. He cast his gaze downwards, grabbing some parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink out of his bag. He would focus on his studies. He couldn't get in trouble if he wasn't doing anything, right? He didn't want to lose house points by existing, but the way things were going, that might just happen.

 _Just imagine,_ he thought, _Dear_ Mr. _and_ Mrs. _Dursley, your nephew has been sent home for being an enormous distraction to his peers. He will not return next year or any years following due to this situation._

He chuckled quietly, earning him some confused stares.

Draco nudged him, "What are you laughing about?"

"The letter my aunt and uncle will get when I'm sent home for being a distraction."

Draco snorted, "You know they won't do that. The Chosen One needs wizardly training, you aren't the Boy Who Lived with muggles for the rest of your life." He shifted in his seat, "Besides if they did, I'll tell my father."

Harry giggled before remembering what Ron had said a few days before, "Hey, about your father. Ron said he was a death eater. What does that mean, exactly?"

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a loud, nasally voice filled the room. "Welcome, students, to your first potions class. We will begin with attendance to ensure that each and every one of you is here, at least physically."

Harry let his lips curl into a slight grin at the last part of the teacher's statement.

The attendance flew past in a blur. As usual, when Harry's name was called, people stared, even the teacher, who had added a snarky remark. As the teacher, Professor Snape, as Harry had learned, began his introductory lecture, Harry furiously scribbled down notes. He would be diligent and studious. A few ink splotches fell on his parchment, as Harry was still getting used to the sensation of writing with a quill. His attention was called to the front of the room as his name was called. He looked up, his green eyes watching the teacher as he continued.

"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry beamed, remembering the information from the textbook that he had read the other night and answered quickly, "A powerful sleeping potion, called, er... the Draught of Living Death, sir."

Snape frowned, his nose twitching. "Very well. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"First in the ingredient stores sir, but if it wasn't there, I would look in the stomach of a goat, sir. Though I would hope that it would be in the ingredient stores, given as it cures most poisons, sir."

Snape fumed, his nose twitching more. "Correct. Then, what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

Harry thought for a moment. This must be a trick question, they were the same thing. "Nothing, sir. They're just two different names of the same thing, which can also be called aconite, sir."

Snape let out a sigh to calm himself down. "Very good, Potter. Let's hope that everyone else wrote that down."

Harry could hear the scratching of quills against parchment. Draco raised his hand.

"Yes, Malfoy?"

"Professor Snape, sir, shouldn't Slytherin get house points from Harry knowing the answers?" He asked.

Snape stiffened, "Yes, of course. 15 points to Slytherin for Draco pointing that out, and 10 points to Slytherin for Potter knowing simple trivia."

Harry glanced to his left. Ron was glaring at him. He tried not to take it too personally, but it still hurt. Why couldn't he just be himself without calling attention? Half the world loved him for being Harry Potter, and the other half hated him, and, well...

He glanced at Draco, whose icy blue eyes glistened in the dim light of the dungeons as he looked at the professor. Draco was different. Draco didn't care about who he was, just about who he is. That was the difference.

 _I want to be known for who I've become,_ Harry decided, _Not for how I got here._

Potions flew by in a flash, Harry's ink-splotched parchment filled with notes depicting potion class procedures and even a little eye he managed to draw with his quill. It was very messy, however, almost as if it was bleeding. As enjoyable as the class was, the cold stare drilling into the side of his head gnawed at his heart.

  
The next period was lunch, and Harry put aside the feeling of his gnawing heart and focused on his hunger instead. Sharing jokes and being with friends as they laughed at things besides himself. For once, he was the comedian, not the comedy. He grinned as he helped himself to about 2 portions of food rather than his usual half. His reference was drilled into his memory as he remembered as he used to stare at his cousin's heaping plate. Harry had dubbed Dudley's regular meal size as 4 portions, edging on 5.

And then his face began to hurt. It started at his cheeks, his near constant grin using face muscles that he'd never used before. And then it flowed upwards, giving him a headache as he choked out laughter. The jokes had slowed by then, and Harry glanced around the hall. His eyes fell on Ron, smiling slightly as he saw the boy having fun. As he turned his gaze towards the front a sharp, searing pain hit his forehead.

Was it karma? All he had wanted to see was how Professor Binns would eat his lunch. He clutched at his forehead, trying not to make a scene. He, being Harry Potter, ultimately failed.

Draco's cold fingers wrapped around Harry's wrist as he went to inspect his friend's forehead, "What's wrong, Harry?"

"My head..." He hissed out, "It feels like it's burning..."

By now the word had spread across the Great Hall, and Draco hurried him out and towards the hospital wing, the Hall silent as Harry's oversized shoes hit against the wooden floor.

He looked back one last time, and he swore that he could see a look of concern on the ginger's face before it turned to a scowl. Could he still care?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What up it's ya boi. I've had no motivation for literally anything for a while. (Seriously, I stopped eating for a while because I just didn't feel like it)
> 
> This is kind of a fluffy filler chapter, but it does have a plot. Harry wasn't originally going to have a scar episode, but I'm sick as fuck and my head started pounding as I wrote that part. BUT! On the bright side we get Draco trying to keep Harry in the hospital wing next chapter. 
> 
> Remember that even though this is a slow burn, Harry gets comfortable with Draco rather quickly, courtesy of not having friends before. 
> 
>  
> 
> If I haven't updated in like, a week, please scream at me because this is such a good prompt and I'm gonna be so mad at myself if I don't finish it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has a solution for Harry's scar predicament

The hospital wing was mostly empty, only one bed was taken. It seemed to be an older student who had had some sort of accident in their potions class. Draco led Harry to a bed in the far corner as Harry protested.

 

"It's just a headache!" He insisted.

 

Draco rolled his eyes, "Usually headaches don't feel like your forehead is burning, Potter."

 

He opened his mouth to protest again but shut it as Draco glared at him as a warning. He shifted his gaze to the woman rushing out from an office, her heels clicking lightly on the tiled flooring. He watched as Draco was hushed away, only noticing that their fingertips were touching when he felt their absence. The lady worried over him unnecessarily, continually asking him what was wrong. 

 

Harry moved away, "I'm  _ fine _ , really. It doesn't even hurt anymore!"

 

The woman frowned, "But what was hurting?"

 

He shifted his weight on the bed, working his jaw, "My scar, but scars hurt all the time. And besides, I'm fine!"

 

Instead of the woman backing off, she only got more worried, "You better stay here for a bit."

 

Harry scoffed, irritated, "Would you be saying that to me if Voldemort hadn't tried to kill me?" He watched the woman's face wince at his name, "I am  _ fine _ ."

 

He glanced at Draco, and lightly stomped his foot against the tile, "Why did you even bring me here? I'm honestly fine."

 

The blonde looked hurt, but Harry didn't care. He thought that Draco was different, but it turned out that even he didn't care about Harry, only his scar.

 

The woman- Madame Pomfrey as he had learned from her name tag- wouldn't let Harry go willingly.

 

"Why don't you take care of the boy who actually needs medical attention instead of me?" He grumbled.

 

Madame Pomfrey glanced at the older boy's boil-ridden face before deciding that perhaps Harry was right. She headed back into her office, most likely to find some boil cream or whatever could fix the boy, and Harry stood. He glanced towards the door, set to leave when he noticed a chicken leg that had been left on a plate on the bureau nearby the door.  A flash of ginger hair could be seen from the window, and Harry frowned. It could be Ron, yes, but there were  _ tons _ of gingers in the castle. Harry had seen Ron's siblings himself! As he passed the boil-faced boy, he heard a scoff. He turned just as the boy smirked at Draco.

 

"Looks like Malfoy has a little crush."

 

Draco glared and hissed back, "Shut up you slug, or you'll be the one being crushed!"

 

Harry frowned, not entirely understanding what the boiled boy was meaning, but he shrugged it off. He took the plate, his bony knuckles turning white at the slight amount of weight. He glanced back at Draco before hurrying out of the wing, ignoring the protests of Madame Pomfrey as she emerged from her office.

  
  
  


He lay back on his pillow, the checkered green-and-silver comforter below him soft and warm. He was enthralled by his textbooks, and upon seeing the boil-curing potion, he came to the conclusion that this must be the potion the other boy in the hospital wing must've messed up.

 

"Horned slugs..." He muttered, fingers tracing the ingredients list. Those must be a magical thing, right? He couldn't be sure, he never really got the chance to learn much in school, he was too busy being stuffed in lockers. He shifted his shoulder blades, remembering the feeling of the cold metal locker against them. He didn't notice another boy entering the dormitories, as he was too curious about how different cauldrons meant different brew times.

 

"Harry?"

 

He looked up, his wide eyes narrowing and returning to his book as he saw who the source of the voice was.

 

"Harry, please listen to me."

 

He ignored the noise.

 

"Harry..." He felt a shift of weight being added to the foot of his bed, and he jerked his legs upwards as he looked up. He set the book aside.

 

"What?" He stared into the cold, icy blue eyes.

 

"Are you gonna listen to what I have to say or do I have to learn  _ sonorus _ ?"

 

He frowned, " _ Sonorus _ ?"

 

Draco sighed, "Makes your voice louder, but that's not the point."

 

Harry closed the textbook that he had set off to the side and sat up, hugging his legs close, "Fine."

 

"I brought you to the hospital wing because I was worried, you know."

 

"About me, or the stupid scar?"

 

Draco looked confused, "You! I was worried about your scar hurting because we don't know what it could mean! For all I know, you could've been having a stroke." He scoffed, "Maybe I should've let you look like a psycho in front of the whole school?"

 

Harry sighed, "No, no, I... Thanks, Malfoy. I was just a bit angry. Everyone is  _ obsessed _ with my dang scar, it gets kinda old."

 

Draco snorted, "Potter, you've been here for one week, of course, people are still talking about you! You survived a killing curse, for heaven's sake!"

 

Harry winced, "Exactly. I'm famous for having a stupid scar. I'm famous for being alive, Malfoy! I want my choices to tell people who I am, not some freak accident that happened while I was one year old!"

 

Draco bit his lip, "So you want to be normal."

 

"Yes!"

 

The blonde's cold eyes sparkled, "I have an idea, come on." He stood up and waited at the dormitory door for Harry.

 

Harry smiled and followed.

  
  
  


Harry and Draco slipped into an empty bathroom, Draco holding a bag that held... well, something. He had refused to tell Harry what was inside of it. Draco shoved Harry onto the counter, insisting that he stay as he dug something out of his bag. He brandished a comb, using it to pin Harry's hair away from his forehead before he dug back in.

 

"What are you-"

 

"Shhh..." Draco hushed as he brandished a neutral-coloured liquid.

 

"What is that, Malfoy?" Harry frowned as Draco opened the vial.

 

"Stop frowning, I need to see your scar!" Draco insisted as he dumped some of the liquid out onto what seemed to be a smooth sponge.

 

"Is that-"

 

"Makeup? Yeah, it is. Now shut it, Potter." He took Harry's glasses off, setting them off to the side.

 

Harry chortled, "You have makeup?"

 

Draco paused, staring at Harry before continuing, "Just foundation and concealer. We're teens, you know. Acne'll start popping up all over the place soon enough." He stared intensely at Harry's forehead as he applied it, biting his lip, "It's a little too pale for you, but if we blend it enough I'm sure we can make it look at least a little bit convincing."

 

Harry frowned, "Have you done this bef-"

 

"You're  _ gonna _ mess it up!" Draco hissed, and Harry kept his mouth shut as the blonde dabbed the make-up on his forehead, watching as the boy's white teeth peeked out from his pale lips. 

 

The blonde paused, biting the inside of his lip as he thought. He returned to his bag, retrieving another vial of a slightly darker liquid before applying some onto the sponge, meaning to mix the two liquids together.

 

"What is that?"

 

"Just some more foundation..." Draco muttered as he put it back in the bag.

 

Harry squinted, "Malfoy, that doesn't match your skin tone at all, that can't be founda-"

 

Draco shut Harry up with a sudden dab on his forehead, "Shut it, Potter." He hissed through his teeth as he buffed the liquids in.

 

After a while, Draco stepped back to admire his work, grinning a bit, "Can't even see it." He said proudly.

 

"See what?"

 

Draco glared at him, "The scar, idiot!" He put the sponge back in his bag, retrieving another vial of some sort of clear liquid.

 

"What's that?"

 

"You'll see..." Draco grumbled as he poured some out onto his hand and taking out the comb from Harry's hair and smearing it in.

 

"That's  _ cold _ !" Harry backed away.

 

"It's hair gel, Potter!" Harry reluctantly moved back in, wincing at the cold as Draco smeared it into his hair.

 

Draco took a towel from his bag, drying his hands and picking up the comb again, running it through Harry's hair, "There," He said as he put his supplies back.

 

Harry hopped off of the counter, turning around and looking into the mirror, "I can't see."

 

"Sorry, I don't have contact lenses, Potter. You're welcome," He scoffed.

 

"Oh!" Harry glanced at him, "Sorry... I mean, thank you."

 

Draco snorted, "Now you look like nobody's ever tried to kill you before."

 

Harry squinted at his reflection, "I look like some rude kid with this hair..."

 

Draco bit back a retort, knowing it would only prove Harry's point. He'd given him his personal hairstyle, and yeah, sometimes he could be rude.  _ Sometimes _ .

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, that was contour. Draco's gotta keep his cheekbones sharp.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you all so much for the kind words and support! Without them I would've never had the motivation to pump out another chapter today


	4. Author's Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry

Apologies for the lack of chapter today. I tried to write it, but I couldn't find the inspiration. Why, you may ask? Because, this weekend, my inspiration made the decision to end her own life. Katy Garbus, my 7th grade English teacher and biggest fan. I wouldn't be writing this today if it weren't for her. This, of course, had a very big impact on me. I write this in hopes that someday, wherever she is, she can read this story. She was always supportive of every writing piece I produced, even the cringy emo poems I wrote when I was 12. She saved my writing to her desktop, she loved it so much. She was always so optimistic and bubbly and I never saw this coming. So again, apologies for no chapter today, but I hope you can understand.   
  
Next chapter will be a Hagrid Visit.

 

This story is dedicated to Katy Garbus, and all preceding pieces written by me are as well.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet Hagrid, and Draco has suspicions

The dormitory door creaked as it swung open, revealing the two boys. It was nearing lunchtime, and Harry was apologizing profusely for Draco having missed his morning mail.

“Honestly, Harry. Azazel’s smart enough to not drop it off at the table when I’m not there. Worst case scenario, I’ll get it a day late.”

Harry sighed hesitantly, and his eyes snagged on a small piece of parchment resting upon his sheets. Hedwig was sitting next to it, preening. He smiled when he saw that Azazel had made his way onto Draco’s bed, delivering his much larger stack of mail.

“Told you,” Draco said, and Harry snorted.

Harry picked up the piece of parchment delicately, savouring the rough feeling between his fingertips. He flipped it over, grinning when he saw Hagrid’s messy signature at the bottom of the note.

_Dear Harry,_   
_I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig._   
_Hagrid_

Harry grinned, turning the note so that Draco could see it. Draco looked up from his mail, a neatly written letter being set aside as he peered at the note presented to him, “Hagrid?”

“The groundskeeper,” Harry explained, “He’s my friend.”

“No, no… I know who he is, I just…” Draco sighed as Harry frowned in confusion, “Father always told me that he was no good. Dangerous and stupid.” He braced himself for his friend’s uproar, only to be pleasantly surprised.

“Well, I’ve met him, and he isn’t like that at all! He’s very nice, and he’s one of the smartest people I know! Professor Dumbledore even trusted him to make a withdrawal from his own personal bank vault!” Harry assured him, “Maybe your dad is wrong. We all make mistakes, you know.”

Draco frowned, the last sentence floating through his head without a single moment spent pondering upon it, “A withdrawal? When was this?”

“My birthday,” Harry answered, a bit confused.

“There was an attempted robbery then, as well,” Draco muttered quietly.

“Hagrid didn’t do anything illegal! I was with him the whole time!” Harry was too angry to notice that Draco knew his birthday.

"I didn't say that he did, Harry! I'm just trying to say that something happened on the same day! And I said it was attempted robbery. On Vault 713."

Harry froze, the red draining from his face, "That was the vault we got the... thing from."

"The thing?" Draco raised his eyebrow.

"I'm not sure what it was, it was just about the size of my hand, and it was the only thing in the vault," He paused, "A really big vault."

"So, whatever it was, it was obviously valuable, right?" Draco sat on the edge of his bed, his legs shifting as he processed the news.

"Well, considering it was in a very high-security vault, then yeah, probably." Hagrid's note had been set aside, forgotten as Harry tried to think about what could be inside that package that Hagrid had retrieved.

"The third floor," Draco said suddenly, startling Harry out of his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"The third-floor corridor. You know, the one where we're not allowed to go?"

Harry frowned, "What about it? You just said we're not allowed to go, what could we do?"

"Exactly," Draco's eyes twinkled, "That's why we're going."

"Professor Dumbledore said that we would face a horrible death if we did!" Harry protested, standing up.

"Oh, come on, Potter. If that were true, can you imagine what kind of trouble the school would be in? He wouldn't actually let anyone die here." Draco rolled his eyes.

Harry pondered this for a moment, "Fine."

Draco grinned.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Harry scarfed down his meal, excited for the adventure to come. Draco laughed, nudging him.

Harry turned his head, "Wha-?"

"You do realize that we have Defense Against the Dark Arts before, right? No point in eating so fast." Draco laughed.

Harry grumbled, and a nasally voice spoke up, "Before what?"

Harry looked up as Draco replied to the girl, "We were just going to go outside, Pansy. That's all."

 _Pansy?_ Harry thought, _Who was she?_ He felt a pang of jealousness, Draco was his only friend... but he wasn't Draco's.

Pansy eyed them suspiciously before returning to her meal. Draco nudged him, whispering into his ear, "Train."

_Ah, that makes sense. The train._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next class had great promise, but Harry was disappointed. The teacher for the subject that he had anticipated so much was the same man who shivered when he had seen Harry before. Thankfully, he didn't share this class with the Gryffindors. Unluckily, Harry needed to see the board, so he was forced to wear his glasses. His fool-proof disguise was foiled. Nobody seemed to notice, though. In fact, Quirrell was nervous towards Harry before he had even put his glasses on. Maybe he's scared of black hair?

Harry only managed to keep his eyes open in the class because of the anticipation of the adventure that was afterwards. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he was forced to keep the signs of his anticipation below his desk, resulting in extremely jittery legs.

Harry felt pressure squeezing his right leg, and looked up, only to be met with Draco's icy eyes. Draco backed away, smirking, cheeks tinting red a little bit from the laughter.

"Calm down, Potter."

Harry nodded, trying his best to keep his legs still as he slowly learned about vampires. Harry could swear that his brain was stuttering now.

When the professor began to dismiss the class, Harry jolted out of his seat along with many others, frowning at the sudden feeling of coolness on his right leg. _Oh, that's right,_ Harry thought, _It was just Draco's hand._

Harry bit his lip while he waited for his pale-haired friend to gather his things, "Hurry up!"

"Why? Are you that excited to do Potions homework?" Draco mumbled.

Harry frowned, "Homework...?"

Draco sighed, picking the rest of his stuff swiftly as he leads the black-haired boy outside of the classroom, "Do you want everyone to know?"

"Oh! Sorry!" Harry blushed, how stupid could he be?

"Just c'mon." Draco grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the stairs in a hurry.

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
Once they had reached the fated corridor, they had slowed to a snail pace, their hands still clasped as they waited for their 'most horrible death' that had been promised to them. Nothing happened.

Mrrrow

Draco and Harry's eyes met, wide as they both looked at the source of the sound. Mrs Norris. Harry groaned, this meant that Filch was nearby, and they had to go-- but Mrs Norris was in the way.

"We're going to get in so much trouble, Draco."

"Shut it, Potter." Draco hissed as the greasy caretaker rounded the corner with a crooked grin plastered across his face.

He sneered at the two boys, "Been naughty, have we? You know you aren't allowed in the third-floor corridor... Headmaster's orders."

Draco feigned surprise, "This is the third-floor corridor? I'm so sorry, sir! I had no idea."

Harry nodded, "The stairs- they're so confusing!"

Filch scoffed, "Hogwash!"

He was interrupted by approaching footsteps.

"N-no, I'm s-s-sure it was a-an accident. I h-heard th-them talking ab-about doing p-p-p-potions homework."

Harry relaxed as he saw the professor, dropping Draco's hand.

Filch pouted and walked away. Mrs Norris followed him after a prompt hiss at the boys. Harry went up to thank the professor, frowning as he ran away.

"He-"

"It doesn't matter." Draco shoved past him, "Hurry up."

Harry hurried after him.

 

 

* * *

 

  
The boys were on their best behaviour when they were out in public, but their dormmates knew that they were talking all night, earning them quite a few pillows to their heads. Once they had finally gone to sleep, it was time to wake up. Harry looked at Crabbe and Goyle as they got up and glared at him. Why him? Draco was talking just as much...

Their classes went by in a flash, most likely because they slept through them. Lunch was okay, at least Ron wasn't glaring at him anymore. Harry was excited for their afternoon and scarfed down his meal. Not that it helped- he would still have to wait four hours.

When the time had come, Harry was hurrying Draco as he watched him smearing hair gel in. Once he finally emerged from his nest of gel, Harry rushed him out of the dorms.

They ran across the grounds, Harry in the lead as Draco was still fixing his hair. He skidded to a halt as he approached the cabin near the Forbidden Forest, waiting for Draco to catch up. Once he had, he knocked frantically on the door.

"'Ello there, Harry!" Hagrid grinned as Harry ran into his arms. Harry didn't see his eyes narrow slightly at the Malfoy boy.

"Hagrid, this is my friend, Draco." Harry pulled away from the hug, smiling.

Draco held out his hand, and Hagrid looked at it for a moment before taking it, "'Ullo Draco."

"Hello, Hagrid." He said, face as neutral as a statue.

"C'mon in!" Hagrid moved out of the way to invite the boys in, and a large dog jumped up excitedly.

Harry laughed at the dog, while Draco took a step back for a moment before entering the cabin as well.

"So," Hagrid grunted as he took a seat at his table stacked with rock cakes and cups of tea, "'ow's yer week been goin', Harry?"

Harry smiled, "Pretty okay, I don't think Professor Snapes likes me very much, though." He cringed as he attempted to bite into one of the little cakes.

"Aw, Harry. I'm sure that int true!" Hagrid ruffled his hair, and Harry almost slammed his face into the table.

"There was a robbery." Harry looked at Draco as he uttered the first words other than a greeting to Hagrid, "It was emptied the same day you and Harry were there when you made a withdrawal."

Hagrid gulped before answering, "Er- well, it coulda been any vault, now!"

"Harry said that it was vault 713. The same vault mentioned in the paper. What was in the vault?" Harry glared at Draco.

"Don't matter now, don't it? Nothin' was stolen!"

"But someone tried to steal something. Nobody tries to rob Gringotts."

Hagrid sniffed, "I say it don't matter. Now, just enjoy yer tea!"

Draco shook his head, "It's in the third-floor corridor, isn't it?"

Hagrid frowned, glancing at his bare wrist, "Oh, look at the time! Ye should prolly go and do some 'omework or somethin'!"

"Well, actually-" Harry protested before he was interrupted by Draco.

"Actually, we do, sir. Thank you for your time." Draco stood and pocketed a rock cake and rushed Harry out of the cabin.

"Why'd you do that, Malfoy?" Harry fumed.

"He knows something, Potter."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I have a tumblr now- theforbiddencouple-official.tumblr.com !
> 
> Feel free to interact with me there and send me fanart! I'd love to see some!


	6. The Trapdoor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first years get their first flying lessons. Draco's acting cold, and when Harry takes a late-night walk he goes to comfort him, leading to a terrifying discovery!

     Harry smiled at the others murmuring as they stirred. Typically, this would be a terrible sound to him, but this time, he didn’t have to make breakfast enough for twenty, he would get to eat breakfast with people who told jokes that weren’t about his dead parents. He stood, knowing how the alarm was. It would only turn off once everybody was off of their bed, and while the other boys mostly despised this, Harry generally marveled at it.  
  
     He moved to seize his glasses, grimacing when a pale hand beat him to it. He gazed at Draco, who smirked, “Every morning you grab them with your sweaty hands, smudge them up, and then spend at least 20 minutes trying to wash them without magic. Honestly, I’m tired of waiting.”  
  
     Harry frowned, confused, “So I’m just gonna… not see?”  
  
     Draco smirked, “No, idiot. I’m going to put them on with my sweatless hands.”  
  
      Harry's face maintained its troubled expression as Draco unfolded his glasses and slipped them onto his face. His nose twitched as the cold metal brushed against it, and he found himself staring into his best friend's eyes.  
  
     They were blue at the moment, their color nearly as deep as the ocean under a sunny sky. They always seemed to be changing, though. While he had deep blue eyes now, they could be a brown color in only a couple hours from now. He imagined them to be, at default, this blue color. He had recently woken, and his eyes weren't exposed to any stimuli quite yet, so this had to be their real natural state, right?  
  
     He could always guess what color Draco's eyes would be by where they were. If they were in the dungeons, they were a dark green, darker than the trees of the forbidden forest. When they were in the Great Hall, the candles bounced off of his eyes and gave a sort of goldish hue. When they were outside, they were practically always a striking hazel color, unless the sky was grey and cloudy, then his eyes matched the moisture surrounding him.  
  
     "There," Draco moved back, and Harry wondered how much time he had spent standing there thinking. Draco gave no hint to the answer of this question and instead turned to get ready himself.  
  
     "Draco, wouldn't it make more sense if I simply didn't grab my glasses by the glass part?" Harry mused, internally scolding himself for not having considered this before.  
  
    Draco froze, the cloak grasped in his icy fingers curling into the curves of his fingers. He shifted, eyebrows raised at Harry, "Because your fingers are obnoxiously too big to be able to do that without touching the glass."  
  
    Harry frowned, subtly looking at his hands. He didn't believe his fingers to be big, but he had previously only had one pair of hands around his age to compare them to, and Dudley's hands had been an outlier in the data.  
  
    He found himself staring at Draco's hands as they moved to set out his cloak, undershirt, and green tie. They looked to be about the same size, so if Draco thought his hands were huge, wouldn't that make his own big as well? He debated bringing this topic up, the thought coming to an abrupt stop as the alarm stopped ringing. Everyone else was awake, and Harry scrambled for his robes.

 

* * *

  
  
  
     Harry grumbled as he emerged from the bathroom, turning to find Draco waiting for him outside the entrance. Draco looked up, and Harry smiled. Now his eyes were green, very like the lights of the dungeon they were in.  
  
     "Take a nap in there, did you, Potter?" Draco shifted himself off of the rough stone walls of the dungeon, walking firmly towards the stairs. Harry had to jog to catch up.  
  
     "No, my hair's just forever sleeping." Harry groaned, glancing at Draco as he spoke.  
  
     "I offered you my hair gel."  
  
     "Yes, you did. But I don't want my hair to be gelled; I want it to be... not a mass of unruly spikes sitting on the top of my head."  
  
     Draco didn't reply, instead leaping up the stairs two steps at a time. Harry followed, nearly getting hit in the face with Draco's robe.  
  
     "You seem cold today," Harry observed as the floor leveled out.  
  
     "Indeed I do, Potter."  
  
     Harry frowned. Draco didn't usually refer to him as his last name unless he was angry. Could Draco be mad at him? Why would he be? Only this morning he had put Harry's glasses on for him.  
  
     "Is there... any reason why?" He questioned hesitantly, breathing shaking a bit as he paused.  
  
     "Focused. Today's important, you know."  
  
     Harry had a moment of panic. Was there an essay due in Potions? Transfiguration? "How so?"  
  
     Draco stopped suddenly in front of the doors of the Great Hall, "Flying lessons, Potter. I have to impress."  
  
     Harry watched as Draco walked towards the Slytherin table as he processed this. Why would Draco have to impress? More importantly, who? This was, of course, only the first lesson. They would all be learning, and Harry doubted they were even going to be in the air this time. He followed Draco, eyes lingering at the ceiling windows where the owls swooped in with mail.  
  
     He sat beside the blonde, smiling at his additional two friends, Pansy and Blaise. At least, he considered them to be friends. They didn't insult or glare at him, at least. He looked up as he heard the sound of flapping wings, eyes snagging on an owl he recognized as Azazel, Draco's owl. The owl dropped two letters, one in front of Draco, and one in front of Harry.  
  
     Harry frowned, going to give it to Draco, but he saw his name written in thin cursive letters on the front. He glanced at Draco, who signed in approval. So this was for him. He tried his best to open it without tearing the envelope it was in and managed to do well until the very last moment. Nevertheless, it was open, and Harry pulled the letter out.  
  
    _Dear Mr. Potter,_  
_Welcome to the house of the noble and powerful. The Malfoy family welcomes you with open arms. We are pleased to have you as a friend of our son, and we hope_ to uphold _the same relations with you._  
_Farewell,_  
_Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy_  
  
     Harry turned to Draco, a smile on his face. He watched as Draco folded his letter and pocketed it before smiling back.  
  
     "Seems my family approves of our relationship," Draco hesitated for a moment, "Friendship, of course."  
  
     Harry's eyes flickered with confusion. Of course, it would be friendship, what else could it be? Before he could continue this internal consideration, Draco spoke again.  
  
     "Look over there, Potter." He gestured towards the Gryffindor table.  
  
     Harry's eyes centered on the strange object immediately; It reminded him of a crystal ball like one would see on the telly, but it was smaller. It could fit in the hand of the boy who held it, and as Harry drew his gaze upwards, he recognized him as Neville Longbottom.  
  
     The ball turned a red smokey color, and he turned to Draco, "What exactly is that?"  
  
     But the blonde was already standing, heading towards the boy with the ball. Harry scrambled after him, nearly tripping over the bench he had been sitting on. He stumbled and ran to catch up with him as Draco approached the boy.  
  
     He barely managed to get there in time to watch Draco snatch it from Neville's hand. Harry stood behind him, confused. His eyes flickered to Ron, who looked to be ignoring him rather than glaring at him. He wasn't sure if this was an improvement or not.  
  
     He watched Draco inspect the ball for a few moments before taking it out of Draco's grasp and handing it to Neville, "Malfoy, what are you doing?" He seethed.  
  
     "Just looking," The boy muttered before striding back to the Slytherin table.  
  
     Harry saw after him for a few beats before he turned to Neville, "Sorry about that, Neville."  
  
     The boy looked surprised that Harry knew his name, and turned a bright red. Harry turned and followed after his friend, worried about how he was acting.

__

 

* * *

  
  
  
     Harry's classes flew by. In Potions, he managed to make people laugh. He reminisced upon the moment.  
  
     "Make room everyone, our new celebrity has entered," Snape had said.  
  
     Without a thought, Harry had snapped back, "Oh, I didn't realize you were a fan professor!"  
  
     The moment afterward had been disturbing. Snape had looked at him with his cold, dead eyes and Harry gaped in disbelief in what he had just said. The panic quickly vanished when the sound of laughter had flooded his ears. It was quiet, hardly louder than a murmur, but it was there. The best part? Ron was one of those who had laughed.  
  
     Harry barely remembered lunch; he was too excited to learn to fly. He walked with Draco to the quidditch field, irritated that Draco decided to be slow now rather than the morning.  
  
     "The brooms aren't going to fly away without us, Potter," Draco muttered cooly.  
  
     "Why do you keep calling me Potter?" Harry frowned.  
  
     Draco paused, biting his lip, "That's your name, isn't it?"  
  
     Harry felt his excitement fumble a bit before it descended into the bottomless pit that was his stomach.

 

* * *

  
  
  
     The Gryffindors were late. Harry stood stiffly next to Draco, unsure about their friendship status at the moment. His gaze slipped as a flash of red stood in contrast to the lush field.  
  
     When the Gryffindors stopped, the teacher, whom he had learned to be Madame Hooch, barked at them, "Well, what are you all waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on; hurry up."  
  
     He clambered towards a broom, settling himself in between Draco and Ron. The broom was worn, with twigs sticking out from strange angles. He grimaced, imagining what it might feel like flying on it.  
  
   "Stick out your right hand over your broom and say 'Up!'" Madame Hooch directed.  
  
   "Up!" The class chanted.  
  
     Harry's broom leaped straight into his clutch. He glanced at those around him, grinning when Draco's broom had made its way into the boy's icy hands on his second try. Ron's broom, however, didn't seem to want to interact with the ginger.  
  
   "Try being assertive. I think it can tell if you're not entirely sure," Harry suggested, breath hitching when Ron whirled to glare at him.  
  
   "Of course I'm sure!" He scowled, but seemed to take Harry's advice on his next try, "Up!"  
  
    The broom threw itself into Ron's hold, and Harry grinned. He stood there waiting for the others to succeed and took the chance to examine his broom. It was primarily a dark brown, with speckles and flares of lighter colors adorning the length of it.  
  
    Madame Hooch next taught them how to mount their brooms, and Harry attempted to reassure Draco after he was told that he was doing it wrong, only earning himself a scowl. What did he do wrong?  
  
    "Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms even, lift a few feet, and then come straight back down by tilting forward slightly. On my whistle -- three -- two --"  
  
     Harry's focus was seized away from the ground as Neville Longbottom abruptly spurted into the air like a soda charged with mentos. Gasps reverberated around him as the boy shifted from the broom and fell to the earth.  
  
     Madam Hooch crouched beside Neville, her expression as grim as his, "Broken wrist. Come on, boy... it's all right, up you get," She stood, turning to the class, "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are, or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."  
  
   As the two figures vanished into the castle, most of the Slytherins erupted into laughter.  
  
   "Did you see his face, the great lump?" Draco cackled.  
  
   Harry frowned. It came to his realization that where Draco had once stood was now a bitter bully.  
  
   "Shut up, Malfoy," scowled one of the Patil twins.  
  
   "Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" taunted Pansy, "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Patil."  
  
   No sooner than when Harry was about to intervene, Malfoy reached into the grass and exclaimed, "Look! It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."  
  
   "Seriously, Malfoy? You're just like my cousin," Harry shook his head, disappointed, at Malfoy.  
  
   Malfoy paused, biting his lip as if he was considering something. He glanced at the Slytherins before turning back to respond, "It's just a little fun, Potter," He spat, "Didn't know you were such a killjoy." His face contradicted his words, a look of sympathy flashed in his eyes.  
  
   Harry watched as the marble was tossed into the air, and everything seemed to go in slow motion. He raced backward, eyes staying focused on the ball as it glistened in the sunlight. He slid across the grass, the blades scratching against his leg. The marble landed in his right hand, much to his surprise. He was never much for sports, or at least he never had a chance to be.  
  
   He pushed himself to his feet, the ball steady in his grasp. He walked back towards the group, side-eying Malfoy before going right up to Ron and presenting the ball to him.  
  
   "You'll make sure it gets back to him?"  
  
   Ron frowned, but took it and nodded.  
  
   When Madame Hooch came back, Harry couldn't bring himself to even glance at Malfoy.

 

* * *

  
  
  
  
   Harry shifted under his covers, his thoughts prickling on his back. Why was Malfoy so rude today? Did something happen? Was it the letter? No, he was cold before that.  
  
   He shoved his covers off of him and sat on the edge of his bed, looking at the sleeping forms of his dormmates. He slipped a pair of slippers on that he had stolen from Dudley and stood. He crept to the door and pushed it open, walking through the common room before exiting the Slytherin Dorms completely.  
  
   The corridors were silent as Harry walked towards the staircase. Drip. Harry stopped, panicking for a moment before realizing that they were under the Great Lake. He resumed his pace, stepping silently up the stairs, his mind racing.  
  
   What about when his eyes, then hazel, clearly echoed sympathy while he was insulting him? Is someone making him act rude? If so, who?  
  
   "Harry."  
  
   He turned, looking at Malfoy, "What is it, Malfoy?"  
  
   "I didn't want to do that, you know."  
  
   "Do what, exactly?"  
  
     "Be an absolute jerk."  
  
    A smile escaped Harry's lips, "Then why'd you do it?"  
  
    "You can't show vulnerability in Slytherin," Draco admitted as he walked to be beside Harry.  
  
     Harry and Draco began to walk together, "Why not?"  
  
     "The world isn't as nice and dandy as you think. If you show that you're vulnerable they'll exploit that."  
  
     "Who?"  
  
     "Everyone."  
  
     "Okay, so you can't show that you're human; how does that excuse you acting like such a jerk?"  
  
     Draco fell silent before muttering, "It doesn't, I suppose."  
  
     The boys walked in silence, ascending several more flights of stairs before they froze, eyes widening. They followed the sound of clacking to Mrs. Norris padding towards them.  
  
     "Filch," They both breathed.  
  
     Harry grabbed Draco's hand as he turned to run away from where Filch was heading from. Harry jumped when Peeves, the troublemaking poltergeist, decided to scream to let Filch know where they were. Harry cursed under his breath, jiggling the doorknob of a door. They were stuck in a dead end.  
  
      Draco pulled his hand out of Harry's and grabbed his wand. He tapped the doorknob and muttered something before opening it and pulling Harry into the room with him. They panted, anxiety pulsing through their veins. To their relief, Peeves had decided that he had been too helpful tonight and refused to tell Filch where they went.  
  
     "Stop breathing so loud," Draco hushed.  
  
     "I thought that was you!"  
  
     "Well, it isn't, so-"  
  
     The boys turned in unison just in time to feel the hot breath of a three-headed dog on their faces. Draco's hand scrambled for the doorknob, gripping it and throwing the door open before grabbing Harry and getting out of there. Luckily, Filch had decided to search elsewhere for them, and the boys ran back to the dungeons.  
  
     "What was that?" Harry panted  
  
     "Not sure, but it was on a trapdoor," Draco muttered  
  
     "Wh- how do you know that?"  
  
     "Because I saw it?"  
  
     "I was too focused on the three-headed dog!"  
  
     "Good thing one of us is observant, then."  
  
     "Why do you think it's there?"  
  
     "Guarding something? I dunno, let's go to bed."  
  
     Draco yawned, and the boys trudged up the stairs before collapsing onto their sheets.  
  
_Could it be... the package?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me forever! 2.8k words and many hours of suffering. Check me out on tumblr!  
> theforbiddencouple-official.tumblr.com


	7. The Troll

     "Wait, so... you think that the dog is-" 

 

     "Guarding the package Hagrid got, yeah!" Harry interrupted Malfoy.

 

     "And why, exactly, is that any of our business?" Pansy asked unenthusiastically.

 

     "Since when do we mind our own business?" Draco cocked an eyebrow.

 

     "Since it meant facing a massive three-headed dog!" Blaise snapped.

 

     "Fine, then. Let's just mind our own business like we always do, then?"

 

     "It's not worth risking our lives over, Harry." Draco pushed.

 

     He looked at his bare plate, standing up, "I'm going to get ready for potions."

 

     He walked out of the hall, bumping into someone, "Oh, sorry about that-"

 

     Ron. The lanky ginger stared at him before walking right past him. Harry gulped before continuing. At least Ron wasn't glaring at him anymore. A few moments of quiet deliberation later, he found that he was outside. He hadn't meant to, of course, but it was lovely out, and Potions wasn't for another hour. His gaze traced the rim of the central fountain, marveling at the smooth stone. His cycle was interrupted when a cloak blocked the rock below. He led his gaze upwards towards the mane of frizzy brown hair, the face covered with a thick book. He stepped toward the student, a Gryffindor, judging by her robes.

 

     "Hello, there," He sat next to her, watching her bright brown eyes look up at him before widening and returning to her book, "Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?" He moved to get up.

 

     "You're Harry Potter." The girl squeaked. Of course, he didn't know when he'd ever get used to being unique.

 

     "Oh, no, please call me Harry." He smiled, watching as her eyes flickered over his green robes. He braced himself for the typical 'Slytherins are evil!' remark.

 

     "I've no idea why people think Slytherin is the bad house," She remarked, shocking the boy, "If anyone actually bothered to read, they would know that each house produces about the same amount of dark wizards, save Hufflepuff, but it's the fact that Slytherins are so ambitious that they are the most noticed. I hope the stigma ends soon now that you're in Slytherin," Harry tried to interject, but she kept going. "Yes, I know all about you, even though I'm a muggle-born," Harry didn't even know that- "You're in almost all of the history books, though still, nobody knows how exactly you survived Voldemort, I do have a theory about your scar! Would you like to hear it?"

 

     Harry didn't even have to answer, just give her a glimpse of a smile, "I studied the killing curse, and I discovered that your scar is the shape in which a wand moves when casting it!"

 

     Harry grinned.

 

* * *

  


     Draco watched as Harry left the hall, getting up to follow him when Zabini blocked him, "Leave it, Draco."

 

     He scowled but sat back down.

 

     "Honestly, Draco. Could you be any more obvious?" Pansy snarked.

 

     Draco scowled, "What do you mean?"

 

     "About how much you frickin' love the wondrous Harry Potter." 

 

     Draco hit her with the back of his hand, "Oh, shut it. Anyone would, he's the most powerful wizard- and he's our age!"

 

     Pansy smirked, "A bold claim, considering Dumbledore's still up and kicking."

 

     He rolled his eyes, "He's definitely stronger than Dumbledore. He defeated You-Know-Who when he was one!" He huffed, continuing before Pansy could interject, "And sure, the old bloke was scared of Dumbledore, but if Dumbledore could defeat You-Know-Who he would! Therefore, he couldn't. And so!" He crossed his arms, smirking, "Harry James Potter is the most powerful wizard in the world."

 

     Blaise erupted in laughter, earning him a confused glare from Draco's golden eyes. Pansy smirked next to him.

 

     "What is it?!" He snarled, before turning pale, a sickly green hue washing over his face, "He's not behind me, is he?"

 

     Blaise shook his head, letting out one final snort before explaining, "Honestly, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a faggot."

 

     He fell backward, the soft feathers muffling his hearing as he sunk further and further into the pile. He blinked, standing upright again. He watched as Zabini grasped at his face, bleeding and bruised. The feathers fluttered away as Draco let out a frustrated sigh. He looked down at them, seeing his fist clenched and stained with blood. His eyes fell closed, and when they opened once more, Blaise was pinned across the Slytherin table, and Draco watched as his fist jammed into the boy's jaw like a muggle sewing machine. He was yanked out of the feathers, and he let out a sigh as the feeling of loss overwhelmed him. Draco struggled against the ropes binding him from the rest of the world. He gazed at Pansy, urging her to come and untie him, but she only stared back with fear glistening in her eyes. Everything was slow, flowing through time as smoothly as a polished cauldron. And then it wasn't. Time sped up, and the feathers flew out of Draco's ears. A boy was screaming out, and Draco looked for the source, confused when a hand clasped over his face, and the sound faded out.

 

     He twisted himself out of the grasp of the arms that held him there, his fist met metal, and Draco watched as a pair of round glasses clattered to the floor, shattering. His gaze met, and he stepped back, watching as Harry fell to the floor, grasping his jaw. Draco tripped backward, and then-

 

* * *

  


     Harry blinked his eyes open, a dull throbbing pulsing through the right side of his jaw. All he could see was white, and he panicked. Was this heaven? Was Harry dead?! He blinked once more, little lines once invisible coming into focus. The hospital wing. He lifted his head, immediately dropping it back down onto the pillow. Why was he here? Did he slip in the dungeons again? 

 

     He frowned, despite his pounding headache. Why couldn't he reme-

 

     Draco, pinning Zabini across the green-lit table, pummeling him over and over. Harry running to help, whether it was Draco or Zabini, he couldn't remember. God- had he helped Draco?  

 

     Do your part, says Aunt Petunia. Do your part, says Uncle Vernon. Do your part, says Dudley. Do your part, says the world. But what if you're doing it wrong?

 

     He shifted in the sheets before sitting up, his eyes meeting Draco's, now a silvery blue. Nothing moved for a few minutes, the boys just sitting and staring in silence.

 

* * *

  


     Halloween was coming much too soon. The once grey halls of Hogwarts soon danced with orange and black. He filed in the dungeon classroom, heart skipping a beat when he saw a distinct pattern at the tables. One from each house. Harry panicked; Hermione was already partnered with Draco, who had the face that meant he was pretending to be annoyed. The only other Gryffindor he really knew was- Ronald Weasley.

 

     He slid into the seat next to the redhead, muttering, "It's Halloween, not Christmas."

 

     Ron snorted.

 

     Ronald Weasley laughed at his joke. Maybe they could be friends again.

 

     The class flew by, the resulting potion being a lump of grey goo rather than the smooth silver liquid it was meant to be.

 

     Snape came by and scoffed, "You are the stupidest person I've ever met, Potter."

 

     "Clearly you haven't looked in a mirror."

 

     Ron laughed. Snape took away 10 points, but it was worth it. Harry watched as Draco beelined out of the classroom the moment it ended, turning when he was nudged on the shoulder.

 

     "Hey, I'm sorry for being a bit of a prick earlier. You're uh... pretty cool." Ron squirmed as he maneuvered his way through the social obstacle course.

 

     Harry beamed, "It's nothing."

 

     Ron and Harry ended up heading the same way to the Charms classroom, and Ron took the opportunity to slide in some of his own snarky encounters that he had had with others in the past.

 

     There were partners for Charms class, but this time they were assigned. Harry was partnered with a blonde Slytherin girl with a rather large nose, and Ron was with Hermione Granger. He glanced around for Draco, finding him next to Neville Longbottom, both looking extremely uncomfortable.

 

     The previous Charms lessons had all lead up to this one, where they would actually be attempting the levitation charm. Harry struggled the first few times, much to his dismay, but he eventually got it. Ron struggled as well, but finally got help from Hermione, much to his dismay.

 

     "Stupid mudblood..." The Slytherin girl sneered.

 

     "You wanna try that again?" Harry snapped, having heard the slur much too many times in the Slytherin common room, "Or should my friend's father hear about this?"

 

     The girl froze, returning quickly to her work. Harry finished the class without another word to her, ending up beside Ron as the students filed out of the room.

 

     "That Hermione..." Ron complained to Harry, "She's a nightmare, honestly."

 

     The bushy haired girl shoved past them, tears evident on her face. Harry glared at Ron. He didn't see her for the rest of the day but heard whispers of her sobbing in the girls' restroom.

 

     The banquet that evening was colorful and splendid. Harry gorged himself on turkey and pumpkin pasties as the tension between Draco and Blaise tightened across the table. Draco and Harry hadn't spoken of the earlier events, both deeming it too awkward to approach. Questions sat on the tip of Harry's tongue, but he just swallowed them down in favor of ignorance.

 

     "Troll in the dungeons!" a voice boomed out, and Harry traced it back to an unconscious Professor Quirrell. 

 

     The hall erupted with worry as the professors sought to maintain peace. Dumbledore's voice soon boomed throughout the room, ordering the prefects to lead the students back to their dormitories. The Slytherins protested, as their dorms were in the dungeons where the troll was. Something calmed them down, but Harry didn't hear it. His mind was too busy racing. Hermione had no idea.

 

     He split off from the group, thankfully unnoticed. He found himself following Snape, wondering why he was away from the other professors when he noticed that somebody else was with him. He nodded to the redhead, keeping his eyes on the greasy professor. They followed him until their noses urged them not to, drawing their attention to a troll down the hall. They watched as the troll went through a door, racing to it and locking it. They smiled at each other in short-lived triumph, as soon after they heard a scream.

 

     Hermione. 

 

     The boys quickly ran into the room, Ron throwing a pipe at the troll as Harry somehow managed to get onto it's back, his wand up its nose. Ron urged Hermione to run and proceeds to use his newfound skills to knock the troll over with its own club. 

 

     "We did it!" Ron breathed in relief as Harry pulled his wand from the troll's nose.

 

     "Indeed."

 

     They turned to lock eyes with Professor McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell close behind her.

 

     "What, exactly, were you thinking? An absolutely terrible idea to come up with. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, I'm afraid-"

 

     "Actually, Professor," Hermione interjected, "It was my idea to find the troll. I thought I could defeat it by myself. Ron and Harry came to my rescue."

 

     Professor McGonagall stared down at her through slim glasses, "I'm thoroughly disappointed in you, Ms. Granger. I'm afraid I'll have to take 5 points from Gryffindor due to your reckless actions. Return to your dormitory at once."

 

     Hermione sped off, leaving the boys alone with the professors in the bathroom.

 

     "And you two," She gestured to Ron and Harry, "Despite your terrible idea, you managed to execute it without losing your lives. 5 points to Gryffindor and Slytherin."

 

     The boys beamed, running off back to their dormitories after being ordered to by Professor McGonagall. Harry found himself surrounded by Draco and Pansy when he returned, both glaring at him.

 

     Draco smacked the back of his head, "You absolute dunderhead."

 

     Harry grinned, "You're just jealous because I met another troll."

 

     "I am not a troll, Potter!"

  
  
  



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